


Bury Me as it Pleases You, Lover

by madrastic



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Anxiety, Arranged Marriage, Ballroom Dancing, Bathing/Washing, Blood Drinking, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Drugging, Dysphoria, Ear Kink, Elves, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Familial Abuse, Fantasy, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Hair Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Hypnotism, Magic, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Partial Mind Control, Praise Kink, Princes & Princesses, Royalty, Scent Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Tenderness, Trans Male Character, Undernegotiated Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires, give it a moment its coming i promise, its hypnosis n shit so uh, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic
Summary: Prince Lucas needs to be married, or there will be consequences. This is not an option. His father has given him an ultimatum: if he doesn't win the hand of the visiting princess, then he will be cut off from the family and given away to the most ornery noble as a tithe. Here's hoping his emotions don't get in the way of something that should have been so routine.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> backstory i wrote for a dnd character, future chapters will be... um... subject to a rating change, lets put it at that. comments and kudos appreciated!  
> title comes from "Where Is Your Rider" by the Oh Hellos

Deep breaths. He was fine, everything was fine. Fixing a polite smile onto his face, Lucas glanced at his attendant in the mirror as his robes were adjusted for the umpteenth time. The man didn’t meet his eyes, just working on ensuring fabric sat correctly. It wouldn’t do to have Lucas looking like he didn’t belong at the ball, especially not with the important the dance held.

Left with just his own reflection to distract him from his trembling hands, Lucas gave himself little, menial tasks to take his mind off of things. Checking over his attendant’s work was something that required just enough brain power to distract him. Was the jacket of his robes sitting correctly? Was the deep blue fabric wrinkled anywhere? Were the gold threads embroidering the royal crest onto his breast pocket coming undone? Were his shoes polished to a black that gleamed?

It wasn’t like he was going to find an error, of course. That had been the job of countless people before him. His hair was done in elaborate braids, jewels and precious metals glinting beautifully in the candlelight. Lucas wished nothing more than to pull the intruders out of his black locks. It made his head hurt, the weight of it all. The crown atop it all was doing nothing to help in that department. As his attendant started the process of the final checks, Lucas knew he could feel him shaking.

“Is everything alright, your Highness?” His voice was polite and demure, as always.

“Yes, Catrion, everything is just fine.” Lucas lied, like a liar. “I’m, ah, I’m just excited.”

Nodding, Catrion gave him a quick look, indicating that he didn’t believe him but was polite enough to not say anything about it. “Do you think that the Eletari delegation are enjoying their time here, my Highness?”

The Eletari delegation. The reason his father had decided to throw this ball just before the first frost. Lucas was supposed to meet the princess and make a good enough impression that she would ask for his hand, according to his family. _How_ Lucas was going to do that, he didn’t know. He didn’t even know what the princess _looked_ like, never mind how to get a woman that was set to inherit her mother’s royal title to like a nobody prince enough to marry him. Whatever his father was expecting, Lucas was already bracing himself for disappointment and punishment.

“I should hope so.” Was what he said instead, scheduling the brunt of those anxieties for a later time. “Have they arrived yet?”

“Yes, my Lord, a few hours ago.” There was a pause and a private smile. “I would say the crown princess looked rather fetching in her black silk gown.”

Lucas blushed. Of _course,_ everyone knew about his little mission. His sister would have seen to that, ignoring her duties in favor of being the castle gossip. “That is good to hear. What does she look like, so that I might prepare myself?”

Catrion glanced at him like he was surprised that Lucas had yet to see her. “She is a bit older than you, long, blonde hair, a very pretty high elf. I would say she stands a few inches taller, but I only saw her for a moment from a distance.”

“I see.” Leaving it at that, Lucas tried not to shake as Catrion finished up and a servant arrived at Lucas’s door to escort him to the main ballroom.

It was tradition for the royal family to enter apart, so the silent walk down the halls did nothing to ease Lucas’s nerves. If anything, it made them worse. The sound of his dress shoes against tile was a clock ticking down to his fate. This was it—this was the day where he proved if he was truly as much of a burden on his family as he had been told. Find the princess. Charm the princess. Marry the princess. Gods above, Lucas was going to fail so spectacularly.

The tapestries hanging on the walls blurred into each other as he passed, painting fading into the depths of his mind. Music echoed faintly—the party had already started. That meant that the noble families were here. Groaning internally, Lucas hoped more than anything that his father hadn’t invited Alyz Triavore, she always got absolutely wasted at these events and it was a pain to stave off her advances. She still had dreams of marrying into the crown family, despite the fact that she was over three hundred years old.

With a nod, the guards at the doors opened them for him and Lucas’s entrance was announced. There were bows and curtsies as people turned to look at him. Entering, Lucas kept up that polite smile that had been beaten into him, socializing with the families in attendance as he made his first found. Picking up a flute of champagne, he pretended to sip at it as people complemented his outfit, his hair, his jewelry. A few ladies in waiting kissed his rings, batting their eyes at him, eager to get a footing in courtly life and thinking that the slim-figured, frail-looking prince would be as easy target as any. For once, they were a welcome distraction from his task.

It took him a blessed half hour of being too focused on saying the right thing, behaving the right way, to make his way to the Eletari delegation. When he saw the crown princess, though, Lucas’s heart leapt into his chest. Beautiful wasn’t the word to describe her. She was beyond beauty, no, it was like looking at a god. Her hair fell like sunlight down her shoulders, all but glowing in the arcane lights of the ballroom. When she fixed her wine-dark eyes on him, and Lucas all but died, turning into an emotional mush.

“Hello.” Her voice was perfect, honey and oceans and rivers and far more than anything anyone could ever capture in a sappy love poem.

Clearing his throat, Lucas fought for words. “Hello, I am Prince Lucas; may I say, it is an honor to meet you.”

She laughed and it was like the world laughed with her. “Princess Eilin, the honor is all mine. Your palace is certainly lovely.”

“Oh, ah, thank you.” What a lame answer. Already, Lucas was failing. “How are you finding the party?”

“Quite interesting, I haven’t been to very many, if I may be honest. My family is not one for socializing.” There was a chuckle at the end of her words, as if there was a joke that Lucas simply wasn’t getting.

Lucas nodded like he knew what she was talking about. “Yeah.”

“Say, would you like to dance?” She smiled at him and all he could think of was how ruby red her lips were. “I believe I know this song.”

“Of course.” It was a traditional waltz, one that had been drilled into him since birth.

When Lucas held her hand in his to begin the dance, it was like every contrary thought in his mind was suddenly, blissfully silent. It was… good. It was more than good—it was peaceful and quiet and nice. All of the shouts of propriety and worries about what his family would think eased out of Lucas’s head, replaced with the tempo of the music, the beauty of the woman in front of him.

Princess Eilin’s eyes transfixed his as she led him into the first few steps of the waltz, Lucas trying to remember a step to this dance that he’d done enough times that he had dreams set to this music. His hand on the princess’s waist seemed to burn through his skin, and she felt cold through the gloves. Maybe she _was_ cold—was it not warm enough for her? Was she too shy to ask for more fuel to be brought to her furnace? Was his family being inhospitable to her so that she wouldn’t take his hand in marriage?

“How has you day gone, if I may ask?” Her smooth voice broke through the melody like it was whispered into Lucas’s ear.

Trying to unstick the concept of language and speaking from the flypaper in the back of his mind, Lucas felt himself flush. “G-good, Princess Eilin, and yours?”

“Oh please, Eilin is just fine.” Her smile could have killed Lucas right then and there. “I would say it was alright, far less eventful than the journey here, though that is certainly a positive.”

She laughed at joke, her hand burning a hole in Lucas’s shoulder. When he had learned this dance, it had very much not been so intimate. His dance instructor, the stern human that he was, had never been one for bringing life into the dance. Lucas had to learn the steps and the cues, there was no time for flair or drama or tenderness.

No, dancing with Eilin was different. The way she moved made Lucas doubt the law of gravity—gliding across the dance floor like a skater on ice. Her skills far outclassed anyone else, including Lucas himself. Her gloved hand clasped his and a small, dumb part of Lucas’s mind wondered if the princess could feel the way his hand was sweating through the fabric of his gloved. Thank the Gods for the dark cloth. He would surely combust if not for the meager barrier between them.

Eyes were on the pair. Lucas would be a fool to think that there weren’t. It was silly, really, if he thought about it, there were always eyes on Lucas, the Prince that Wasn’t. Even back in his childhood, everything was always scripted to exactness. His every wail had been right on cue, strategically cute and distracting. Perfection was not a goal but a reality. If he was anything less, there would be consequences. What a wonderful life he led, his every decision made for him years in advance. At least he might make Princess Eilin happy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas could spot his family, trying to look like they weren’t staring daggers at him, waiting for him to make a mistake. If Lucas fucked this up, there would be no reprise. There would be no accommodation and tolerance for him. He would be a disappointment to rival disappointments, a disgrace to the family. No pressure, of course, no pressure at all.

Centering himself, Lucas found himself in the middle of the dance, making polite small talk. He had told a joke, evidently, and it landed well, the princess giving him a chuckle and a smile that make Lucas feel like he was dancing with the incarnation of a god. For all he knew, he was. It wasn’t like Lucas would doubt it, there wasn’t much he knew about Princess Eilin’s family; they were a private people and the fact that they had ventured out to Lucas’s family’s palace had been an unprecedented thing in and of itself.

So far, everything seemed to be going well.

“Say, is this quite different from your home?” Lucas heard himself asking.

A dark cloud blinked across the princess’s expression, gone in a fraction of a second before Lucas could register the implications. “Yes, but in a good way. Your country is quite charming. Everyone has been so welcoming.”

“That is good to hear. I fear that I haven’t had the opportunity to visit your homeland, but I am sure that I would find it just as, if not more beautiful.” With a smile, Lucas swallowed a twinge of nerves and let his mouth voice a thought. “It produced you, so how can it be anything less?”

The laugh that slipped out of the princess was genuine, a blush tinging her cheeks. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Say, would you do me the honor of showing me around the palace? I fear it’s so big that I just get so turned around. I saw the gardens on the way in—they’re so large!”

Lucas blinked. It would be quite a piece of gossip if the two of them left to wander the gardens. There would be implications. They wouldn’t have a chaperone. Inwardly, a grin spread across Lucas’s face—so the princess _did_ like him. Well, liked him enough to break a few rules. Why she would want to be with someone so far out of her league, Lucas didn’t know. Maybe she had a similar stipulation for marriage from her parents, if she felt that she could be so forward. What did it matter, really, though? Princess Eilin was beautiful and charming and made Lucas feel like he was drowning in her attention every time she looked at him, who was he to be choosy?

“Of course, your Highness.” Gracing his face with a polite smile, Lucas drew her through the last of the steps of the song, the music winding down. “It would be my honor.”

That made the princess’s eyes light up like Lucas had promised to set the sun in a necklace of gold. He probably would, if she asked him to. Lucas wanted to see joy in those red eyes every day, wanted to be the one to make her laugh. If he never left her side again, they would still be apart too long—the thought lanced through his heart like a dagger.

As they stepped off of the dance floor, the princess taking Lucas’s elbow—he was a gentleman, after all—the two of the did their best to ignore the quiet whispers bubbling up around them. The guards opened the doors for them with knowing smiles and it was all Lucas could do to keep the blush from his cheeks. The path to the gardens had been worn into his mind, so it was nothing at all to keep up small talk as he led them outside.

Stepping out, Princess Eilin breathed in the fresh air, lips turning up into a smile. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

It was. The gardens Lucas’s mother’s project, her command wrangling of the rocky ground into lush, verdant life. Even out of season, flowers bloomed and trees hung perpetually heavy with trees, the gardeners using a mixture of magic and botany to ensure that the flora was held in a perfect state of paradise, wealth flaunted in the constant availability of exotic blooms and fruits. Surrounded on all sides by the harsh crags of Efiton Mountains, the dark night sky looked more like a dome, a bowl of earth pooling all of its life in the center. Flat stones made a stepping path through manufactured wildness, lit by candles in glass-walled lanterns.

Above them, the sky was rich with stars, constellations like pearl necklaces in a jewelry box. Wisps of clouds obscured patches here and there, dark spots against a finely speckled sky. The galaxy up above was like a river, some stars shining high and bright, competing with their neighbors for attention and honor. Despite the chill, it was a gorgeous night out.

“There’s a patch of roses in a hidey-hole, if you’d like to see them, Prin—Eilin.” Lucas said, nervousness creeping into his voice as he corrected himself.

“I would want nothing more.” He was going to die under the weight of her undivided attention. “You can relax, if you’d like. There is no one here to perform for, I will not think any less of you for being a person.”

It sent shivers up Lucas’s spine, her words. The fact that the princess could be so forward, even exchanging first names like they had gone through with negotiating a union and were set to be wed, it would be more than a scandal, had anyone heard them. His parents would be shocked at how indecent it all was, at the fact that Lucas had let himself get so base. For Pr—Eilin, though? Lucas would do anything she asked without hesitation; she only meant the best.

“Of course, Eilin.” The taste of her name was intoxicating, like the finest wine. “If it pleases you, you may call me Lucas.”

Her reaction was positive, the grip on his arm tightening fondly as she moved a bit closer. Lucas’s heart was going to pound out of his chest, at this rate. With no one to distract them, no gazes to be perfect for save the princess’s, it was impossible to distract himself from the way Eilin’s attention pinned him squarely to her. It was almost intolerable, how earnestly his mind strove to please her, to make her happier. Lucas had a lingering thought that he would be more than content to chop off his own limbs if she had asked him to.

A realization crept down the back of his neck like cold water. He could never let her know his shame, the shame of his family. Once she knew that he couldn’t produce an heir for her… Lucas didn’t want to think about what would happen, how difficult it would be to bounce back from such a rejection. No one would want him, not after the princess had thrown him away.

As if sensing his silent distress, Princess Eilin’s fingers ran along Lucas’s arm, a motion meant to be soothing instead lighting up the nerves of his skin like fire, his heart hammering in his chest like a war drum. Biting his lip, Lucas did his best to control his reaction, despite the blush that was almost certainly darkening his face by now. Hopefully, she would find it endearing and not presumptuous, how clearly enamored he was with her.

Oh Gods, what if she found this awkward? What if the reason she had removed them from the party was because she simply wanted to let Lucas down gently, away from his family and peers so that he might preserve his dignity? She must hate Lucas, hate him for how obvious his intentions were, how forward he was, how unerringly aggravating. Much like his family, he must have appeared as his true form, a complete and utter disappointment to Eilin, why would she ever willingly spend time with a failure like him—

Her lips were on Lucas’s cheek. Gods above, her lips were on Lucas’s cheek. It was impossible to think, impossible to breathe. Lucas was paralyzed, limbs unresponsive, mind blank. The princess’s lips were soft and cool, like spring water. That was the only thing Lucas was aware of. Her lips were soft and her hands had taken his, squeezing gently, like she was scared he would break.

All too soon, she drew back, firmly inside Lucas’s personal space. “Prince Lucas, I would like to formally ask for your hand in marriage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> liked the story? [leave a tip!](https://ko-fi.com/madlysacrosanct)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap's gonna be a bit spicy and by a bit i mean very

Princess Eilin had requested Lucas be brought to her quarters. His stomach did flips when the attendant arrived at his door bearing the message. This was good. This was very good. For the princess to want to speak to him after the display he had made of himself was promising; she hadn’t thought him creepy and cloying and clingy, at the very least. The last thing Lucas wanted was to be creepy and cloying and clingy. She likely wanted to discuss the circumstances of their union, hopefully.

She was very well spoken, from what Lucas could remember. Whenever the princess was around, his mind fled him, able to only think about how wonderful and lovely and beautiful she was. It was… not ideal. Lucas’s tongue got all tied up on itself and all of his words came out wrong. He sounded like an idiot whenever he spoke to her, all of his thoughts laid bare.

Getting properly dressed, Lucas fixed his hair in the mirror before following the attendant. He tried to ignore the way nervousness built up in his stomach. It was going to be okay, Lucas was going to smile and be polite and the perfect prince, the perfect future husband. Yes. Princess Eilin was going to think that he was a wonderful and capable person, and it was going to be a-okay.

The walk seemed both far longer and far shorter than it should have, the hallways distorted by nerves in his memory. Lucas was silent, doing his best not to throw up or faint or have an anxiety attack. His mother always said that his nerves were his greatest weakness. Well, his mother wasn’t exactly the best person to diagnose weaknesses, she thought his very existence was an issue. It was fine. Princess Eilin didn’t have to know until later. It was a non-issue, they could just get a surrogate if they needed to have an heir, no one needed to ask any questions.

Like an omen of ill-tidings, the door to her room loomed, the dark, finely carved wood and brass doorknob a testament to his family’s hospitality. Alright. He could do this. The attendant knocked and announced him, like this wasn’t the most important thing in Lucas’s life. If he failed this, he didn’t want to _consider_ what his father would do to him. The last thing Lucas wanted was to be sent off to some random noble family as a means of appeasement, married to a man that would take him as a bribe from the king.

He was led into the guest room, and the attendant left them to their devices. The crown princess was sitting at the table in the corner, writing in a notebook by the light of the lit lanterns. A plush chair sat opposite from her and the bed was made perfectly, a door leading to the quarters of her ladies in waiting artfully concealed in the woodwork of the walls. Lucas always forgot how large these rooms were. He had gotten the smallest of the royal quarters; his family had no use for a third child.

Princess Eilin looked up, and whatever thought had been next in Lucas’s mind evaporated like fog in the sun. She was beautiful and Lucas felt his heart skip a beat, fighting the blush that threatened to overtake him. The princess was just so perfect, how could Lucas think himself worthy to even stand in the same room as her? How could he think it appropriate that someone like him would harbor thoughts of marrying her?

Motioning to the chair in front of her, Princess Eilin smiled at him. Okay. He could do this. Ignoring the way Lucas’s heart was thrumming and stomach filling with butterflies, Lucas sat down in the chair and folded his hands in his lap politely. It wouldn’t do to be rude or unseemly. He was a prince, after all.

“How are you?” Her voice was perfection incarnate.

Lucas tried to fix a polite smile onto his face. “Good, good, and you?”

“I am well.” She paused a bit, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. That was certainly enough to make Lucas blush, the implications of that action. “I was wondering if we would be able to discuss the mechanics of this union.”

“Uh-huh.” Lucas said, like an idiot.

This was perfect, this was ideal, this was wonderful. She was just so good and pretty and nice, it was hard to focus on her words. Something about the political union, family unification, bringing peace to the lands. Lucas just nodded and agreed with her, happy enough to just be in her presence. The princess was very smart, and her family was the more dignified and higher ranking one, Lucas just needed to behave and obey his future wife. He just needed to make her happy and all would be well.

“Prince Lucas?” His name on her lips was intoxicating.

“Yes, my Princess?” Lucas was the picture of politeness.

Chewing on her lip, Princess Eilin rested her hands on the table. “I noticed that you were a bit tense.”

Tense, ha. Lucas was always tense, but it was to be expected. Who wouldn’t be tense if they knew that their future revolved around whether or not they were able to convince a high-ranking enough person to overlook their myriad flaws and marry them. Lucas was a worthless prince that was a drain on his family’s resources, liable to be traded like a pawn to the highest bidder. All he wanted to be was useful.

Wait, did she want him to not be tense? Lucas could do that for her, Lucas would do anything for her. All she had to do was say the word.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Leaning his cheek on his palm, Lucas tried to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear as prettily as he could. If this was what Eilin wanted of him, he would provide.

A chill ran through his veins and it became harder to keep that smile on his face. What if Princess Eilin expected him to be able to produce an heir? Would knowing the truth about him affect her willingness to marry him? His mother was probably right. Lucas was an abomination, no one in their right mind would want him. He was defective and horrible to look at and unpleasant to be around and—

Lucas’s thoughts were broken when Eilin’s hand covered his. She was so cold. Lucas should warm her up. Clasping her hand in his, Lucas prayed that he wasn’t overstepping. There was concern in her eyes. Oh. So she had asked him a question that he didn’t respond to. She was going to change her mind. She was going to leave him and spread the word about how unpleasant a partner he would be.

Her voice was quiet and gentle. “Are you alright?”

“I am perfectly fine.” The answer was immediate and scripted.

Those wine-colored eyes dropped from his, her hand giving a gentle squeeze. “You know, I could help you with that, relaxing, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” A shiver ran down Lucas’s spine.

“It would be my pleasure.” Eilin’s voice was easy and smooth, so nice to listen to. “I know this trick to help, and I just want you to be comfortable.”

Comfortable. Comfortable was good. Lucas hadn’t felt comfortable in a long time. “Okay.”

She smiled, and it was one of the best rewards Lucas had ever been given. “Wonderful! I’d like you to make yourself as at ease as possible, you can lie back against the chair if you’d like. Just pretend you’re alone.”

Obediently, Lucas leaned back, letting himself ease against the backrest of the chair. If Princess Eilin wanted him to relax, then he was more than happy to oblige her. She had a nice voice, all Lucas wanted to listen to her for the rest of time. Eilin stroked his knuckles with her thumb, a slow light motion.

“Good. I want you to feel how you are holding yourself okay? Breathe deeply and slowly, good, just like that. Bit by bit, feel yourself relax from the tips of your toes, that feeling slowly climbing up to your ankles, nice and loose and limp.” Her words were so easy to listen to, to follow along with. “Up your calves, relaxing your muscles, past your knees to your thighs. You aren’t doing anything wrong, you’re safe here.”

Lucas hadn’t realized he has stiffened up until his body accepted Eilin’s words and eased up. The more she spoke, the easier it was to relax, to take a deep breath and stop thinking about how many things he had to worry about and all of the ways he could be punished for this. It was okay. He just needed to listen to the princess, and all would be well.

“You’re doing such a good job, doesn’t it feel nice to be good?” It _did_ feel nice to be good. Lucas very much liked being good. “That feeling of relaxation is going to move up through your hips, into your core, nice and loose and limp. Good, so good. Up your back, like and relaxed, just like that. There’s nothing to worry about, just listen to my voice.”

The muscles in Lucas’s back loosened, his posture shifting from the perfectly straight line than had been trained into him to something resembling a comfortable slump. It was okay, Lucas was doing a good job. It felt nice to be able to truly ease back into a chair and not have to worry about what he looked like or if he was behaving properly. He didn’t need to focus on anything right now besides Eilin. Dimly, he was aware of her palm moving up to cradle his cheek, thumb rubbing comfortingly against his skin.

“And that relaxation is going to travel up your neck. That’s it, you can let your head loll if you’d like.” Lucas obliged her, head growing heavy in her hand.

“Good, you’re doing such a good job. Soon, I’m going to count down from ten, and you’re going to feel more and more tired and relaxed with each number. You’ll want to close your eyes and go to sleep, but you won’t be able to until I say ‘one’, alright?”

Clumsily, Lucas tried to nod. He felt tired and nice and he just wanted to listen to Eilin.

Fondly, she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. “When I say ‘one’, you’re going to be able to fall into a nice, deep sleep, okay?”

“Deep sleep…” Lucas found himself echoing.

“Yes, good.” Did Eilin know she had such a soothing voice? “Ten, your eyes are so heavy, so hard to keep open.”

That pesky lock of hair slipped out from behind his ear, but Lucas couldn’t bring himself to care about it anymore.

“Nine, you feel so nice and relaxed.”

His breathing was slow and languid, his eyes fluttering with vague attempt to keep them open.

“Eight, so calm, so peaceful.”

What had he been so worried about? Why had his thoughts been bouncing around his head again?

“Seven, your limbs are loose and limp, good.”

Lucas felt so tired, so, so tired.

“Six, you’re safe, you’re happy.”

Everything was going to be… was going to be okay.

“Five, your thoughts are slow and easy.”

Dimly, he was aware of fingers rubbing gentle circles into the skin behind his ear.

“Four, so good, you’re doing so good.”

Lucas was good. He was doing good.

“Three, it feels so nice to give in, to relax, to listen to my voice.”

He was so impossibly sleepy, cheek resting fully in Eilin’s palm.

“Two, so tired, so sleepy.”

Tired… sleepy…

“One, a deep, deep sleep.”

Lucas’s world went wonderfully, blissfully dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating change time

This was not what Eilin was planning to do. The road to the Seven Hells was paved with good intentions, glittering golden bricks lining the walkway. The walkway that Eilin had made. Her mother was going to be angry, very angry with her, but she couldn’t summon up the courage to care. There were going to be consequences if Eilin told someone… Hm. If.

All she had really wanted to do was to help. Lucas was just so tense all the time, Eilin could see him shaking. Even under her thrall (try as she might to prevent that), she could still see the way he acted, trying to be the most perfect prince he possibly could. It was worrying, how concerned he was about this, about everything. She just wanted to help him relax, take some of the tension out of his shoulders, help him resist her thrall just a bit more.

Well… Eilin had done something, alright. Lucas’s eyes had slid closed, the weight of his head resting squarely in Eilin’s palm. The tension _was_ gone, she might add. Lucas was well and truly relaxed, probably for the first time in his life. Long-standing creases had eased, and his muscles were loose and limp, wonderfully and pleasantly at ease. He looked young in a way that broke Eilin’s heart. Stripping off all of the worry and anxiety and nervousness, Lucas looked young and hopeful and like someone who would split a dessert with you because your eyes were bigger than your stomach, and thought it would be rude to send it back half-eaten.

“Lucas, I’d like you to listen to my voice, okay?” There was a sluggish nod. “Good, you’re doing such a good job. When you wake up, you will find that you’ll be resistant to my charm effect. You will feel toward me how you would feel naturally, without the influence of the thrall.”

It would be good to give him that freedom, the ability to decide for himself what he wanted to do. If Lucas ended up hating her over this, then… well… Eilin would just have to live with that. She didn’t want his ire, but she would accept it with grace and finality if that was what was needed. It sent a pang of heartache through her at the thought, but Eilin would push through it.

“You don’t have to remember this if you don’t want to, just feel yourself drift.” Eilin kept her voice smooth and soft, a melodic anchor. “You feel more relaxed than you ever have in this state. If you’d like, you can adopt a more comfortable position.”

Obeying, Lucas lifted his head, leaning back further against the chair. It was nice to see him like this, lips slightly parted and eyes closed.

“It feels so good, to be like this. It feels nice to be such a good boy.” Lucas’s breath stuttered a bit at her words, breaking the deep in-and-out as the feeling washed over him.

She could probably get him to relax more, if she wanted. “So good for me. What do you normally do to unwind after a long day, Lucas?”

“I touch myself.” The answer was immediate.

Eilin’s cheeks would have colored if she had been fed recently. “Would you like to touch yourself now?”

“Yes.”

“Show me how you do it, then.” If he was to be her husband, this may become important.

Spreading his legs, Lucas’s left hand ran down his body, bypassing his chest entirely to tease at the cloth-covered skin of his crotch. His right hand wandered up to his ear, stroking and pinching at the delicate skin. He bit his lip, ear twitching, trying to get more contact. Little gasps trickled out of him as Lucas undid the buttons of his jacket, shrugging it off as best he could. The white frock underneath looked soft and expensive, just sheer enough to show off a dark band around his chest. Lucas unbuttoned his pants, reaching a hand in to tease at himself, leaning his head back against the chair.

“You can make sounds if you’d like.” Keeping her voice steady and calming, Eilin felt a not-unpleasant twinge in her stomach as Lucas let out a desperate groan. “Do you touch your chest?”

His eyes flickered open with another whimper. “No.”

“Why not?” Was it an injury?

“I don’t like the way I look there.”

The… oh. Oh, Eilin got it. “Do you like the way other parts of you look?”

Lucas’s leg jerked a little as he applied more pressure, making circling motions with the hand in his pants. “No.”

“Why?” That lock of hair had slipped loose again. Reaching forward, Eilin tucked it behind his other ear, running a finger against the shell.

With a moan, Lucas’s mouth dropped open. “Because I bring shame to my family. Because I am flawed. Because I am selfish and cruel and a mistake.”

That broke Eilin’s heart. It broke her heart into a million little pieces. She was going to… what could she do? Scream at his parents? Make a public scene? Well, at least no one was going to think that around Lucas for much longer. Eilin was going to make sure of it. When they were wed, that was going to be a law in her kingdom: no one could be harsh to Lucas.

“I don’t think so.” Eilin let her fingers stray to the soft, sensitive skin behind Lucas’s ear. “I think you’re a handsome, wonderful person.”

Something clouded over Lucas’s eyes. Even in this state, he rejected the suggestion. Right. Move on, Eilin.

“Why don’t you undress a bit, as much as you want.” Her hand fell away, resting on the table.

Obediently, Lucas stripped out of his undershirt, keeping the black band over his breasts on. He had freckles, little smatterings of them on his shoulders. It was very cute, Eilin freely admitted it. He looked cute enough to eat. Shaking her head to clear it, Eilin tried to recollect her focus. No. Lucas wouldn’t like it if she took a bite when he was in this state. He was entitled to his blood, no matter how tempting it was for her.

It took Eilin far too long to realize that he was just sitting there, waiting for further instructions. His eyes stared, unfocused, lips still parted ever so slightly. Lucas’s breathing had slowed again, like he was sleeping. It would be so easy to take a little nip from his—no. That would be wrong. Eilin wasn’t a monster. She could probably just call for a snack after he left.

“Would you like to continue?” If so, it would be better to do it on the sheets, not on the heavily embroidered chair. The stains would likely not be easy to explain away.

“Yes.”

“Then take off the rest of your clothes and sit on the bed.” Eilin’s voice was smooth and stable.

Lucas obeyed, stripping out of his vestments and taking a seat on the edge of the bed, legs spread. He was very nice to look at, Eilin had to admit. Yes, he was a surprisingly competent conversationalist, despite the charm, and he was a capable prince, but it didn’t hurt that he was attractive on top off all that. Eilin didn’t need to be charmed to recognize that.

His hair was long and dark, done up in elaborate braids, interwoven with golden adornments. It looked soft and silky, black strands healthy. Even blankly staring straight ahead, his eyes were like emeralds, clever and glinting. Lucas was sharp, wit quick and funny, even when his mind was fixated on how in love with Eilin he thought he was. She winced at that. That was fixed. It was okay.

Rising, Eilin walked in front of Lucas, watching him idle, waiting for a command.

She was going to give him exactly what he wanted. “When I snap my fingers, all the pleasure you feel will be amplified tenfold.” Soothing and melodic, that was the way to go. “It will be the best feeling you’ve ever felt, understand?”

“The best feeling.” Dreamily, Lucas didn’t look at her, eyes half-closed.

“Do you want to keep touching yourself, Lucas?”

“Yes.”

Eilin bit her lip. Her fangs had snapped out and she had to be careful not to nick herself. The smell of Lucas filled the room, his arousal clear. It was tantalizing, Eilin’s body hinted at her to come closer, to press her lips against his neck, to sink her teeth into him and drink her fill. She didn’t have to kill him, he would enjoy it, she could make him enjoy it. It would be easy, it would be _satisfying_. It would be wrong. Shaking her head, Eilin ignored her body’s urges.

“Then do it, make yourself feel good.” She just wanted to make his day a bit better, a bit easier.

Obediently, Lucas traced his fingers over his clit, rubbing circles against the little pink bud. His other hand played at his entrance, spreading his folds. With a breathy whimper, he pressed harder against his clit, little gasps dropping from between those pretty lips. His body kept himself up like a puppet on a string, ensuring that he didn’t lie back on the bed. He had been given a command, after all.

Eilin snapped her fingers, and Lucas’s back arched as he moaned loudly, riding the sudden influx of pleasure. Little sounds dripped from his lips as his hands stilled. His muscles twitched as he tried to take some control of himself back, one ear quivering. Gods, his pupils had blown wide, everything too much for him.

“You’re doing such a good job.” Stepping forward, Eilin ran a finger gently down the shell of his ear, enjoying the whimper he gave her. “Why don’t you give yourself a reward? A nice, pleasant reward.”

“Reward.” Lucas’s voice was a gasp.

He thrust two fingers into himself, letting out a small, choked sound. As Eilin continued to play with his ear, he started to move his hands, pumping in and out of himself quickly. His body shook with the effort of sitting up, hips trying to jerk forward. Eilin pinched the tip of Lucas’s ear and he cried out, thighs trying to close on his hand.

“When I snap my fingers, you’ll be allowed to finish. Doesn’t this feel so nice, being such a good boy for me.” Her breath broke over his ear.

She could smell him so strongly, the smell of his soap and his cologne. It was this soft, mint-y scent, mint and lavender. It was tempting, dabbed on the pulse point of his neck and the insides of his wrists, like Lucas was daring her to press her lips to his skin and lick and bite until he was a loopy, light-headed, limp figure in her arms, unable to muster up the awareness to push her away. Eilin wasn’t going to, but, even still, she let herself breathe deeply, picking up the smell of _him_ underneath everything else.

Running her other hand over his cheekbone, Eilin didn’t want to test her self-control with a kiss. “Good boy, my good boy.”

He whimpered under her ministrations, moving faster, growing more desperate. Somewhere along the line, he had slid in another finger. A blush spread over his face and chest, pretty and pink and out of breath. Eilin wanted nothing more than to watch Lucas take himself apart like this, than to hold him and make him feel like this again and again.

“I’m going to snap my fingers, and count to three. When that happens, you will feel fully alert and awake. You do not have to remember everything that has happened, or anything if you choose. You will also be allowed to orgasm.” Lucas whined at that, arching into her shoulder. “Do you want that?”

Nodding clumsily, his voice was quick and breathless. “Yes.”

Eilin shifted away from him, getting a good look at him before she brought him out of that state.

“One, you are feeling more awake and rested.” Her voice was less relaxing and more stern but soothing.

Lucas bit his lip, gasping as he fingered himself harder.

“Two, you are more aware of your surroundings.”

He shuddered, some of the blankness leaving his eyes.

“Three.” Eilin snapped her fingers.

With a cut off cry, Lucas stiffened up and fell back onto the bed, no longer ordered to hold himself up, fingers still buried deep inside him. He rocked his hips in shallow, aborted motions onto his hand, barely cognizant of his surroundings. His head was turned to one side, hair a mess, breathing heavily. The bed under where he sat was soaked with his fluids and his body still shook and twitched with the aftershocks of his orgasm, eyes unfocused. Gods, he was a wreck, a beautiful wreck.


	4. Chapter 4

What the _fuck_ had just happened. Lucas’s thoughts were spinning and dizzy, like someone had spiked his drink. He didn’t know what time it was or where he was or why he was there, he just knew the pale cream wall coming into focus and his own hair in his face. Lucas was out of breath and sore, sweat cooling his skin. Where were his clothes? Why was he naked? Whose bed was he in?

His fingers were in his cunt. Gods above his fingers were in his cunt. Pulling them out, he was struck with just how much his wrist _ached_. The joint felt like it had been thoroughly abused. Between his legs, it felt hot and sore and sticky, Really, his entire body felt like he had just put it through the meat grinder. With a groan, he rubbed at his eyes, mouth feeling dry and horrid. This was horrible. What did he _do_ to himself.

A glass of water appeared in his periphery, and a quick glace revealed it to be connected to the hand of Princess Eilin. He was naked in front of the princess. He had jacked off in front of the prince—he was _naked_ in front of the _princess_. This was horrible, this was the worst possible scenario, she was never going to speak to him again and was going to rescind her invitation to wed him and leave him to be pawned off to a noble. She knew. Gods, she _knew_. Lucas could feel his cheeks burning as he tried as hard as he could to die in this moment.

Unfortunately, death was not soon to come. When was death ever conveniently timed. No, Lucas was going to have to live out these next moments of his life, body aching like he had been in battle. The wheels in his brain turned sluggishly, trying their very best to keep up with what was going on. Princess Eilin was still waiting for him to take the water.

“Thank you, Princess.” Lucas’s voice sounded like he had just screamed for the last four hours. What else could he say? It wasn’t like there was a script for this.

“Of course. Please, Eilin is fine.” She paused for a moment, as if considering something. “Here, I can help if need be?”

Help? Help. _Oh_ —Gods, no, that would be an embarrassment that Lucas would never be able to shake off, the fact that he had lost control of himself so thoroughly that a foreign princess he was going to be wed to, whose bedchambers he was in, naked, had to help him drink water. Summoning all of his will, Lucas took the glass in his hands, ignoring how much his hands ached under the weight. Hopefully he hadn’t damaged his wrists too badly, it would be a nightmare to explain to anyone.

As he pressed the glass to his lips, taking little sips, Eilin fluttered around him, anxiously trying to be of assistance. How she wasn’t completely and utterly disgusted with him, Lucas didn’t know. After everything he had done, she should want to have him executed within the hour. He knew his parents wouldn’t fight her on it.

“I can send up for food, if you would like.” Her eyes skated over Lucas’s stomach and he did his best to ignore how horrible this type of attention made him feel, all his faults on display. “Or I could have someone run a bath—”

“No.” The word was out of Lucas’s mouth before he could think about it. “No, it’s alright. Sorry.”

He could run his own bath. The absolute last thing he wanted was for someone else to see him naked. No, Lucas was more than happy to draw his own bath and wash himself. It might have seemed odd to Eilin, but he could always attribute it to a cultural difference. Oh. Oh Gods, were they even getting married after this? Had Lucas thrown his only chance for a good life down the drain because of a moment he couldn’t even remember?

Setting the glass down on the table, he could feel how ruddy his cheeks had become. “May I please have my binder? I can’t see where it is…”

That sprung Eilin into action, pacing over to where a neatly folded pile of clothes was sitting on a chair. Rustling carefully through them, she came away with it, handing it to Lucas like it was a precious thing and not an article of clothing built upon lies to help Lucas disguise what he looked like. How she was so comfortable with this information was truly shocking.

“Thank you.” He was hesitant as he sat up, pulling the binder over his head and adjusting it. Despite everything, Lucas was so much more comfortable with it on. “I am sorry.”

Eilin blinked at him owlishly, fluttering down at the edge of the bed. Polite as ever, Lucas tucked his legs in, making himself as small as he could. “What are you sorry for? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I-I…” Lucas should keep his mouth shut. Lucas should keep his stupid mouth shut.

Unfortunately for him, Eilin was clever enough to see the distress in his form. It was so hard to hide with all of his skin on display like this. The intensity of her gaze made him squirm, concern burning holes wherever her eyes fell. She could peel away years and years of training and masks to see everything underneath, and it left Lucas so exposed. Likely, she wouldn’t want to be with him after, she wouldn’t want to marry someone so broken.

Eilin placed her hand on Lucas’s ankle, trying to be calming. “Is everything alright? Please, all I want is to help you.”

“No, really. Everything is fine.” He lied, like a liar.

Her brows drew together. “I was wondering, I had assumed such before, but just to be clear, I would be wearing a white dress at the wedding, correct? I just want to be sure that I will be able to properly fulfill the cultural obligation.”

The laugh that fell out of his mouth was entirely involuntary. There were relief and disbelief tinging it, the sound rough around the edges. It was a miracle in and of itself that Lucas was not being sentenced to death for his promiscuity. With a smile seeped in warmth, Eilin gently squeezed his ankle. It was funny, how hard she tried to be comforting, like it was a foreign language she was trying to learn as fast as she possibly could.

“Yes, white would be more than fine.” He let her extend his leg, the tension between them relaxing somewhat. “I… um… I appreciate your understanding.”

“Of course. Please, at least let me help clean you up.”

Lucas felt his ears flick down, coloring at the tips. “If you insist. I wouldn’t want to overstep—”

“You aren’t.” She leaned forward, cupping Lucas’s cheek with a hand. Her skin was so cold, was there a draft? “Why don’t you just let yourself relax, okay?”

For some reason, that felt so familiar, relaxing. Yes, maybe he should. It had been so long since Lucas had been able to lift the weight off of his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he nodded, and Eilin stepped out. Lucas could hear the water running in the bathroom and Eilin humming. Gods, he felt so tired and sleepy; maybe everything _was_ alright. He let himself lean back against the pillows, allowing the tension to bleed out of his muscles. It still ached between his legs, he had been a bit too eager with himself for too long, but there was also a deep satisfaction in his bones.

As Eilin reentered, the sleeves of her dress rolled up, she chuckled at him. “Here, let me help.”

She reached forward, taking Lucas in her arms. How must this look, Lucas allowing himself to be manhandled so willingly. It was times like this that made Lucas aware of how small he was, Eilin easily able to lift and carry him. Well, people were always telling him to eat more, but there were only so many hours in the day, and Alice had never been a fan of paperwork so everything his father didn’t think was worth his time passed through Lucas’s hands for a signature or decision. It was kind of funny, really, how well-versed Lucas had ended up in law and diplomacy.

The warm water on his skin made him yelp, jerking up and splashing it onto the floor. Oh. Oh _Gods_ did he have to be so obviously stupid? Why couldn’t Lucas just behave like a person, would it kill him to do that? To have himself under control? The princess’s arms tightened around him, supporting him as she lifted him back up.

“Is it too hot?” She asked, like Lucas was a rational person capable of rational actions.

His face was bright red, Lucas knew it. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention—it won’t happen again.”

A chuckle reverberated through Eilin’s chest, deep and pleased. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s quite alright. Here, let’s try again.”

Though Lucas wasn’t a child, he obeyed, letting himself be placed in the bath. There was a vast array of soaps, as if Eilin had been unsure which he favored and went with them all. Hesitantly taking a bit of the bath oils in hand, Lucas cleaned himself off under Eilin’s watchful eye. Maybe this was what she was into and who was Lucas to judge. All the more insurance that she wouldn’t be telling anyone about how unseemly the two had evidently been.

Tentatively, like she was afraid of spooking him, Eilin settled behind Lucas. “May I help wash your hair?”

The way she said it, as if it were some great honor, made Lucas’s heart skip a beat. Could she wash his hair, what must certainly be a rat’s nest by now. Something so intimate, so profound. That Eilin would want to share that with him was a miracle in and of itself. Even still, her hands hovered, waiting for his approval before this, like she didn’t outclass him. It was sweet.

With a nod, Lucas let his head lean back. Careful fingers undid his braids like they were handling the hair of a god, as gentle as possible. She worked a cleaning oil in, scratching his scalp pleasantly. This was nice, very nice. Slowly but surely, as the oil was washed out and a brush began to work through, Lucas let his eyes drift closed. The water was wonderfully warm, and Eilin’s humming was pleasant, the way she spoke in the middle of verses about inconsequential things was soothing. Sure enough, the last thing Lucas remembered was the brush being set down and his hair worked into a simple plait, lips pressing against the back of his head.

Somehow, he hadn’t fucked everything up.


	5. Chapter 5

Eilin was starving. Staying at a foreign palace was taking its toll—the king and queen knew of her family’s affliction, but the amount of blood she was receiving was far from enough. One person a week was not hardly a proper diet, not when she had been turned so recently. Keeping Eilin on the brink of starvation was not good for anyone, especially not when she was to be interacting so closely with Prince Lucas.

It was dangerous, really. She was still young enough that she didn’t have as much control over herself as was necessary, especially when Eilin was hungry. The scent of blood and warmth was just so tempting; one day, Eilin was going to sink her fangs into his neck and drink her fill. Gods, she _knew_ Lucas would taste delicious, sweet and tart and finely balanced. She could smell it off of his skin, wafting up and mixing with his cologne in such a cloying way.

A dark part of her mind questioned why. Why would his family be so alright with this situation, surely, they must have known. Very quietly, an upsetting thought occurred to her. What if that was the desired end result? A fed princess and a prince that was no longer a problem. It was no secret that Lucas was not the favored child, and it was even less of a secret that the royal family had considered a great many things to alleviate the torn in their size that was his existence. It had made Eilin sick, when her mother had informed her as to why marriage to Lucas would be an ideal finale. At least it was better that the lobotomy option if he proved to be ‘unstable’.

He was almost certain to accept it, for one thing. The Terion royal family had been attempting to marry him off for the better part of five years, to no avail. Let it not be said that they were truly trying, though. The ‘briefing’ Eilin had been given was… more than lacking. All it had done was alert her to how little Lucas’s family thought of him, the way they made sure to highlight every area that he may have been perceived to be lacking.

They had the _gall_ to call him selfish, that he needed ‘special care’, simply because he had opinions. It was cruel, if Eilin could be honest, cruel and heartless. She had been preparing herself for a horrible person, someone so narcissistic that he wouldn’t consider a conversation that wasn’t about himself, not a man so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he would happily do anything that was asked of him. He would kill himself trying to please and it broke Eilin’s heart to see him so terrified of his own free will, treating it as if it was something dangerous to be contained.

A knock on the door brought her back to the present. A servant entered, anyway, taking with them a man, drugged into a sluggish stupor. Her meal, it seemed. As he staggered to the table, directed by the servant woman, Eilin moved to close the door. At least she had been given permission to dirty the furniture, one could only be so neat when feeding.

With shaking hands, the servant tied the man’s arms and legs to the chair, responding to his incomprehensible, slurred exclamations with polite and patient nods and affirmatives. As quickly as they had started, the servant was bolting out of Eilin’s rooms, not making eye contact. Well, at least thank the Gods that no one was going to be talking about this.

“Hi…” The man’s head lolled as he looked at her, seemingly just realizing that there was someone else in the room. “You’re really pretty.”

“Thank you.” Eilin said, as if it didn’t spoil her appetite to talk to what was about to be her food.

She needed to get out of that habit, her family constantly reminded her. It did no one good to play around with her food. Her food was not calmed, and her nerves were not settled. What Eilin wouldn’t give for an alternative, but starvation was not the ideal way to die, and Eilin was a princess. If she died, there would be severe consequences.

Crossing into the man’s personal space, she tilted his head to the side, gently. Like this was a completely routine interaction, he slurred something at her, grinning. Gods, Eilin needed to get a hold of herself. Her mouth was watering at the rich scent of his blood, hot and thrumming just beneath his skin. It bordered on intoxicating, though that was likely the incredibly amount of narcotics coursing through his system. She braced herself for the chemical aftertaste that was sure to come.

Eilin’s body moved of its own accord, sinking her fangs into the meat of the man’s neck. Instantly, blood filled her mouth, wonderfully, _wonderfully_ delicious. Ignoring the way he struggled sluggishly away from her, Eilin just bit harder, not caring about how ruby red drops trickled down from the corners of her mouth to splatter against the floor, staining the front of her dress. Who cared—the laundresses her family had brought with them were experts in this. No, it was time to eat, and Eilin was positively famished, it didn’t matter how much of a mess she made.

His blood, as nourishing as it was, still tasted acrid. Nearly all of the blood she had been drinking for the last few years had. Once Eilin had been deemed capable of hunting her own prey, she had been expected to do so, no matter how much it turned her stomach to be hunting _people_. The solution everyone had come up with was… not her favorite idea, but it kept her from having to face the facts.

She had to look like a complete mess right now, red all over her chin, streaks of it down the white frock of her overdress. Beneath her, the man had long since stopped fighting, most of his mental functioning now dedicated to all of the lovely colors and shapes he was seeing, now that he had most of his blood removed and in Eilin’s stomach. He was giggling at something, eyes glassy and tilted up to the ceiling, a bit of drool dripping from his lips.

Pulling back, Eilin let herself take a breath. A rivulet of blood trickled from the bitemark in the man’s neck and he looked like he was at death’s door, if he had been aware enough to realize it. His skin was pale, his every motion slowed like it was made through molasses. It was tragic, how broken people got when they were so drained, their bodies electing to give them nice final moments as the anemia interacted with a vast assortment of drugs. Instead of fear, the man was laughing, eyes completely unfocused as his head fell further to the side, not caring in the slightest about the vampire before him.

Behind Eilin, the door opened. Why did her family expect her to be so quick about it. Eilin didn’t have any profound desire to be snappy with her meals, not wanting to choke everything down as fast as possible. Even with the unpleasant aftertaste of the drugs in the man’s system, blood was a reprieve from the bland ashes of normal food in her mouth.

“I haven’t finished yet. Give me another ten—” Turning, Eilin was met with Lucas’s wide, horrified eyes. “—minutes.”

Oh no. Very much, oh no. This was… not how Eilin had wanted to reveal this fact to Lucas. This was quite possibly the _worst_ way to reveal this to him. There was really nothing she could say to him, was there? There was no plausible explanation for why there was a bloodless man tied to a chair in her chambers and blood all over her face and clothing. She could see him breathing from here. With all the fresh food in her system, Eilin could smell his fear in the air. His pulse hammered in his neck, eyes locked onto hers.

“Lucas, this isn’t what you think.” And just what was it, Eilin? Was this a circus act? Some highly specific and dangerous sexual fetish? What, as a matter of fact, was this if not Eilin sucking the blood out of someone by their jugular.

He took a step back, hand leaving the door to reach behind him, as if someone was going to apparate out of the ether. “What are you?”

That hurt, the way Lucas’s voice quivered in the air, like he was about to fracture into a million little pieces. With a wince, Eilin raised her hands where he could see them, keeping any motion she made slow and careful. It wouldn’t do to be rash right now, it would only make everything worse. That was a guarantee.

“I—” What could she say? That she was a vampire? “I would hope that this doesn’t change anything between us.”

As she took a step forward, Lucas took one back, keeping the distance between them stable. What could she—paperwork. Paperwork would prove her point. Reaching for the loose-leaf sheets that Eilin had been advised to carry with her in her breast pocket, she unfolded them and held them out to Lucas. They were a simple set of papers, ones that outlined what she was, what her diet required, that gave her permission to inhabit the palace grounds comfortably.

Hesitantly, like he expected her to seize him, Lucas reached out his hand, taking the papers from her. His eyes scanned them, face unreadable. It was so different from his usual persona, this fearful thing before Eilin; more than anything, she missed his easy, friendly smile, replaced with a tight frown and stiff movements.

Those eyes flicked up to her, round with realization. Before Eilin could smile and say whatever platitudes she was intending, Lucas was gone, paperwork firmly in hand, running down the halls as fast as he possibly could. Blinking for a moment, shocked at the unexpected movement, Eilin roused herself to action, running after him. The hallways seemed to blur together without an escort, winding corridors with the echoes of footfalls being the only hint she had as to Lucas’s path. And… and there was still blood all over her. This was bad. Very bad.

Giving up, left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had failed so spectacularly. Feet moving of their own accord, Eilin found herself knocking on the door that housed her mother, wiping her face on her sleeve, doing her very best not to cry. When her mother opened the door, the disappointment in her eyes was enough to make Eilin shrink down into herself, bowing her head and standing just inside the doorway, ignoring the prickling of tears.

“You look like a disgrace, Eilin.” Her mother sat down in a chair, folding her arms, unamused.

“I—I…” Swallowing, Eilin tried to refocus her words. “Prince Lucas walked in on...”

Instantly, her mother was back on her feet. “You hadn’t locked the door?”

“I didn’t think I _needed_ to—”

With a frustrated sigh, her mother pulled on a coat. “Alright. I will fix this mistake for you just this one time. Remember this. And put on something _clean_ , Eilin.”

Eilin’s fangs scratched at her lips, still a bit hungry, picking at the skin there. “What are you going to do?” It would be good to know, for future mistakes.

“I’m going to have the thing executed.” She said, like it was nothing at all.

The words sank into Eilin’s chest, painful and burning. “I—are you being serious?”

“Have I ever been otherwise around you?”

No, unfortunately, no. “Why? He-he hasn’t done anything wrong—he was under the impression that I would be willing to receive him.”

Eilin’s mother raised an eyebrow. “How presumptuous of him. I’m sure we can find you someone else, someone more respectful.”

“Mother, he has my papers.” Her voice was a quiet thing, hushed, spoken into the ground. “He’s quite respectful, I had invited him previously.”

“Oh, no matter. We can have more drafted up for you. I don’t understand why you sought him out for a union, his family warned us, Eilin. His family warned us, and now look at what’s happened. I have to wonder about your taste.” It felt like her mother’s eyes were pinning her to the floor with shame. “I could have him brought to you chambers, if you would like to have a taste before any decision is made. If you take a bit too much, then it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Nausea stirred in Eilin’s stomach at that thought, at Lucas, drugged down to the seven hells and back, loopy and uncomprehending as Eilin sank her teeth into his neck. The absence of recognition in his eyes, the weak struggling as he slowly went limp, unable to understand what was happening, why he suddenly felt so tired. That cheery smile slowly fading as he felt colder, more sluggish, thoughts slowed by both the narcotics and the blood loss. It would be Eilin’s fault; it would be her in the executioner’s hood.

A sinking feeling overcame her as she considered the alternate scenario. Lucas, presented to her without drugs, screaming and begging for mercy that Eilin wouldn’t be able to give, wide eyes and thrashing limbs pinned down so that she could have an easier bite. The way his fear would taste when he understood what was to be his fate, his screams slurring into each other until he was too weak to even speak, eyes glassy and mind hazy, too far gone to even tremble.

“Please, don’t—” Gods, she was _pleading_ with her mother. “Isn’t there a way to let him live?”

A raised eyebrow was her only consolation. “Get a hold of yourself, Eilin. No, of course there isn’t. Now, I would suggest that you dry your eyes and go to your rooms. He will be brought to you in the next day or so, it may be that we will be able to get him to apologize. You would do well with a thrall.”

Eilin felt herself blanche. That would be worse, a fate worse than death. Overriding her previous help, only to put him under the effects of her charm for the rest of his life, drained again and again until there was nothing left but unthinking adoration for Eilin, not a shred of personality that wasn’t meant to serve her personal tastes.

“I don’t want a thrall, Mother.”

“And what a travesty, that is.” Her mother tucked a lock of hair behind her pointed ear. “At least we can nip this matter in the bud quickly. What a blessing that you told me so quickly. You have your orders, and I have a job to do. Get on with them.”

It took everything in Eilin not to fidget. “Yes, Mother. Thank you.”

Lucas was going to die, and it was her fault. It was all her fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos greatly appreciated, hope yall liked my edgy backstory lol!
> 
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**Author's Note:**

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